DJ Quik Dollars and Sense Lyrics

Mmm
Now let's get down to business, b____es
Cause it seems like y'all just keep on tryin to diss this
n____ that you know that's been down for years
I've clowned for years, and y'all could never fade my peers
One two three four five six seven
Nine, ten, Eiht you can't win
Cause all the way around n____ I gets respect
and youse a n____ that can't even get no props in your set
Tragniew Park you say huh
Wanna be rippin, but now it's time to do some set trippin
So listen close, cause I don't want y'all to miss
That I'm bout to break it down for this b____, check it
Acacia, Poplar Maple Spruce Cedar Elm
Westside trees sprayin all the fleas
that's from the three and four hundred block P-Funk riders
(So n____z watch yo' a__ at that center divider [gun blast])
Now Aaron Tyler, tell my why you seem so tame
When I caught you at the airport, shakin like a c___ game
You looked up and you seen my n____z comin
And you looked like your b____ a__ was bout to start runnin
But all I wanted to do was kick a little coversation (yo whatup)
And see if we can fix this little situation
But would I f___ you up was what you wondered
Yeah, that's probably why you changed your little pager number (punk a__)
But b____es like you don't grow
You can't even look me in my eye, let alone go toe to toe
And callin me skinny, youse a clown
I'ma call you Theo, cause you weigh ninety-two point three pounds
Wack a__ actor, movie script killer
Fool don't you know, Quik is still the n____
Compton psycho, boy you oughta quit
Your records don't hit, and b____es don't jock your s___
You need to stay down you Compton clown
and get off of the nuts of the n____z with guts
Because I'm down with the Trees, I'm down with Death Row
I'm down with Black Tone, and I'm down with the fo'
So when we cross paths and I hope that's soon
I'ma boot your m_________in a__ to the moon
You need to quit bangin under false pretense
Cause if don't make dollars, it don't make sense

[chorus]

If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the people, commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince

Now I'ma swing it to the right and, right into the left hand
Take a deep breath and, cook it like a chef and
this is dedicated to the C-P-T
No better yet T-T-P, or the n____z that look up to me
I make it my business, to be that true forever
and whenever I can come clever well that's my endeavor
so whether or not you understand, that there's only one DJ Q-U-I-K
with no C still you can't be me
Because I'm floatin in my Lex and, depositin fat checks and
gettin mad s__ while I floss the NSX and
doin what I wanna, and youse a goner n____
for thinkin that you can catch me slippin on a street corner
Remember Compton's in the house, and Quik is in the hood
Sippin yak with all my n____z cause it's tooted good
So don't knock it til you try it, cause Eiht he tried to knock it
But he's still walkin round with my nuts in his pocket (beyotch)
So put tha P in it represent and sip that Miller
And for those of y'all concerned, this is still Eiht Killa [gun blast]
Let me take a load off my s______ little pest
If it don't make dollers n____, you know the rest

[chorus]

Now I done sold my f___in soul to the s___ that I kick
While you groupie a__ n____z keep on ridin the d___
You oughta know that DJ Quik ain't your average everyday m_________er
(hah) Slick like a snake cause I stuck ya
Now, I never had my d___ sucked by a man befo'
But you gon be the first you little trick a__ hoe
Then you can tell me just how it taste
But before I nut I shoot some p___ in your face
you f___in coward, tremblin like a nervous wreck
Cause when I caught your a__, you put yourself in check
And when you left my presence, you left expedient
You ain't no f___in killer, youse a comedian, beyotch
Tell me why you act so scary
Givin your set a bad name wit your misspelled name
E-I-H-T, now should I continue
Yeah you left out the G cause the G ain't in you
Remember that time you was rollin on the Westside
And a little brown bucket pulled up on your side
Caught at that light in your Camry in the midst of a
REAL killer, tell me did you feel a little nervous (hell yeah)
You was in the shadow of death
With two trey-five-sevens pointed at your chest, hmm
Whatchu gon do, where was your n____z that kill at
You ain't got no killers so kill dat
Holdin up your hands and beggin for a pass
You lucky they didn't just to get to dumpin on yo' a__
Cause this game you think is funny is some real s___
So you need to be more careful who you f___in wit, beyotch!

[chorus]
[line 4] I'm through playin with your punk a__

Shouts goes out, to my well known road dog
What's up Dozun Tru, they don't understand it baby
they can't fade us out here on these Compton streets (beyotch)
It's bigger than they can imagine
To the whole entire Death Row family
Both sides, whassup n____z
And my n____ big Suge, known for keepin s___ poppin
To my n____ Big J, my little n____ Hi-C, little straight G
And that little singin a__ n____ Danny Boy
Y'all don't understand, y'all can't fade this
I'M the first n____ that was "Bangin on Wax"
Yeah if you remember, nineteen eighty-seven underground tapes
And it don't stop, and it won't stop